


Crush

by admerxin13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crushes suck, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, In a bar, Jealousy, Mild Angst, Mutual Pining, Protective Dean Winchester, Reader-Insert, Sassy Dean, some prick thinks he's hot, turns to fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 21:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12177180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admerxin13/pseuds/admerxin13
Summary: You have a crush on your friend and hunting partner, Dean. You don't know it, but he has a crush on you, too. One night in a bar, both of you get jealous of the other's flirting.(POV switches from reader to Dean halfway for plot's sake)





	Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fic I wrote some time back that I re-read and edited from where I had posted it on Tumblr. If it's familiar to you, that may be why. My Tumblr username is also Admerxin13.

You watched as he skirted through the bar’s crowd towards you, feeling yourself perk up at how he seemed to focus on you, only to berate yourself when he stopped a few feet away to flirt contentedly with a pretty blonde with breasts nearly popping out of her plunging neckline.  
Sighing, you told yourself for the millionth time that it was better for you and Dean to be friends. He was always picking up and dropping girls for new, shinier ones. If you stayed platonic, you would never have to watch him leave you behind.   
So instead of watching the flies in his web, you to the latest guy with a beer and a -decent- personality. His eyes were a pretty brown, you decided, laughing at the silly jokes he told. His hands, though, were soft. He obviously didn’t work in any physical setting. You tried to remember what he said he did for a living. Filing? Taxes? Lawyer? His eyes were trying so hard to hook yours, but you just trained your eyes on the bottle of beer in your hands, hoping he’d just brush it off as you being shy.  
For a moment, you listened as he continued on about his living situation – If he doesn’t like his apartment, he should leave- but your attention is snatched by the flirtatious giggles not far over his shoulder. The blonde was eating up the attention Dean paid her -who wouldn’t- and you realized your gaze had lingered too long when your admirer stopped talking to look at what you were eyeing so intently.  
You quickly laughed and apologized, blaming the drink for the momentary lapse in focus, and let your hand fall to his gym-achieved bicep. He smiled patiently. Patronizingly commenting on how women can’t hold their liquor, he continued where he’d left off and you tried to pay attention.  
\-----  
Dean smiled as he saw Y/N across the bar, sitting just so he could see her through the crowd in front of the bar. He was nearly to her, saw her look at him and realized she were already talking to some stiff. He felt his temper flare before calmly switching focus from her bright eyes to the nearest bimbo to him, who, after being surprised by his sudden attention, warmed up quickly to his flirting.  
He couldn’t seem to keep focused when the blonde would talk, too busy making sure the prat next to y/n was behaving, keeping his dirty little prissy hands to himself. He nearly stomped over when the bastard didn’t, but stayed because her eyes were so focused, intent on what the guy was saying, and Dean knew he would get in the way.  
He refocused on -Britney, was that the woman’s name? Told a joke, watched her get more and more dunk, and felt himself get fed up with her marathon drinking, even as he split his attention to make sure the girl he was truly there for wasn’t getting too drunk to deal with the suit.   
He felt his eye twitch every time he heard that her laugh at some stupid joke the man would recite – probably the most unoriginal shit that loser could remember from the internet. Dean tried not to remember how much he, too, enjoyed finding ways to make her laugh.  
The lady in front of him finally got drunk enough that the simply started groping him rather than try to flirt in her drunken stupor. He pulled away, pushing her towards the door, pulling some cash outside so she had a cab.  
When he came back, he realized y/n wasn’t where he’d last seen her, and felt a flash of panic, despite knowing from the hunts you’d been on that you could easily handle yourself, and searched for her inside the bar before going out the back to find you fending off a grope from the suit.  
\--------  
You had just pushed the guy back when a shadow loomed over the – admittedly buzzed- guy you’d finally convinced of your “No, definitely no.”  
You gave a slight gasp when you realized it was Dean pulling the guy away from where he’d crowded you in hopes of scoring. “Dean!” You said, getting his attention from where the shorter man squirmed in his fist.  
Dean quirked a brow at you, waiting for you to continue, and when nothing came to mind, his eyes lingered on your face for only a moment longer before turning to the suit, a terse “Get out,” barked out before the man was thrown towards the door to the bar.  
When he was gone from sight, back to get more drinks no doubt, Dean turned his angry gaze to you. “What the hell, y/n? Why in the world were you doing with that prick? You know what? Nah, we’re done tonight. We got a demon to research tomorrow, let’s get outta here.” He grabbed your hand, about to start for the impala.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Winchester!” You snatched your hand from him, earning a disbelieving look before he turned fully back to you, his muscular arms folding in front of his chest as you ripped into him out of habit. “I was handling that just fine. Sure, he got a bit handsy, but-”  
“A bit?” Dean bit out.  
You glared and continued, copying his stance from just a foot away, going up on tiptoe as you spoke. “As I was saying, I had it. He wasn’t exactly a werewolf, Dean. I can handle a drunk guy just fine- I’ve been doing that long before I met you, and I didn’t need your help then or now.”  
His eyes narrowed dangerously, lips tightening in the way you knew they only did when he was truly mad at you. “Yeah? Well I don’t care how much you think you can handle a drunk. I’m not gonna let him put his pansy-ass hands on you!”   
You rolled your eyes, knowing it would just fire up his temper more. “Oh please, Dean, like it really matters to you that much! Just go back to that little blonde in there why don’t you? Or are you bored with her already? How about some of the brunettes that were gathered at the bar, staring at your ass? They looked ready for some fun.” You filled your speech with sarcasm to cover up your jealousy.  
His eyes blanked for a moment, his gaze suddenly too thoughtful. You blanched as you truly realized how territorial your words had been. Your arms fell as he stepped closer, and you instinctively stepped back. His expression sharpened, and he pushed you back to the wall the drunk guy had you on only a minute or two before.  
His curiosity got the best of him, leaning in and asking, “Why are you so jealous? You’ve got plenty of little admirers, don’t you?” His words weren’t meant to hurt, but you flinched.  
You snapped your mouth shut from gaping, and put on a mask of irritation. “Come off it Winchester. Like you care.” The sharpness of your statement only furthered his suspicion, though.  
“Why do you care so much, Y/n?” You stubbornly looked away from his searching eyes until he pulled your chin up, and still you tried to focus on anything- anything but the forest green gaze of the man before you.  
With a huff and an angry glare, you spat, “I love you, okay? Now leave me alone.” You shoved his chest, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he changed his grip on your chin. You looked up when you felt his breaths waft over your lips, and you heart stopped in your chest.   
His eyes were deadly serious, just as if the two of you were on a hunt. But under that seriousness was a soft little light, and you couldn’t breathe for a moment.  
He watched you for a moment, letting you see that this was no joke to him before saying softly, “I don’t think I can let you go after hearing that.”   
You softly asked, “Why not?”   
“Because,” He whispered, “I love you, too.”   
Before you could protest his declaration, his lips covered yours in a tender kiss, knocking you senseless before he angled his head, deepening the kiss. You hadn’t realized your arms had circled his neck, body pressing towards him, feet so far onto your toes you could barely feel the ground until he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.  
You felt tears in your eyes, and pinched yourself on your arms, only to see his confused expression still before you. “It’s not a dream.” You can’t believe it, even though everything points the fact that Dean Winchester loves you, just as you love him.  
He smiles, and despite your tears, you laugh when he quips, “Oh, I’m a dream, baby,” He wiggles his eyebrows, then his seriousness returns, “But, yes, y/n. This is real.” He leans in and gently places a kiss on your forehead, making you feel like his most treasured possession.  
He wraps his arm around you, a familiar gesture that holds all new meaning to you now. Surrounded by his warmth, you both head for the Impala.


End file.
